For Us
by Fat Puppy
Summary: Dean POV. Season 14. The trip home after the events of "Prophet and Loss"


TITLE: For Us

FANDOM: Supernatural

SUMMARY: Dean POV. Season 14. The trip home after the events of "Prophet and Loss"

* * *

"You okay?"

We were an hour into the trip home before I asked. After his breakdown and my agreeing to keep fighting, neither of us had much to say. Even Cas was unusually quiet in the back seat.

Sam had stopped sniffling twenty minutes ago, but even in the dark of the road, I could see the glaze still on his eyes and tear tracks on his face. I hadn't realized, or, better yet, I did and just refused to acknowledge it, how difficult my decision about the Ma'lak box had been on him. I'd told him I wouldn't budge on what I had to do. I told him why I had left to build it without telling him. I was trying to avoid the most difficult part of all of this. Leaving my brother.

Sam though, being the stubborn pain-in-the-ass that he is, passive-aggressively agreed to go along with my plan. My suicidal decision. Until he couldn't. Until he reached that breaking point.

It's why I couldn't face Sam to begin with. He was the only person who could talk me out of this whole Micheal-In-The Box deal. We'd shared nearly everything our entire lives. And hell no he'd not be okay with me stuck in a box for eternity with an archangel at the bottom of the ocean. I expected his protests during our final journey together. What I hadn't expected was his demonstrative onslaught an hour ago in the parking lot. The desperate pleading of hope. The raw emotion. The emotional breakdown.

The jaw punch.

He'd convinced me. As I'd feared. As I'd...hoped? I didn't know anymore. I just knew that Sam was hurting and I couldn't have that. Thirty plus years of looking after him. No, I couldn't have that at all.

"Sammy?" I said, when he didn't respond to the first question.

He tossed a slow glance my way. "Hmm?"

"Doin' okay over there?"

"Yeah, um," He cleared his throat. "No, I don't know."

"Yeah. Me either. It's been a tough few weeks."

"Yeah."

"Headin' home though. Okay?"

I saw and heard him push a ragged deep breath in and out. Still struggling.

Cas leaned forward from the backseat to place a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I can help, Sam. If you'd rather sleep the rest of the way."

"Oh uh, no. Thanks, Cas. M'okay. Would rather ride in quiet though. If you guys don't mind." I watched the palm of his hand wipe at the new tears, a gesture that for Sam was very childlike. And my heart broke.

Damnit, I cursed to myself. I did this. Not intentionally, but it was my doing. I'd hurt my little brother. Broken him.

"Sam, I..."

Sam held up a hand. "Don't, Dean. Don't apologize." Because I really was going to, he knew my pattern. "I don't want you to apologize. Please. I just..." His voice lowered to an emotive hush and he sniffled again. "Because we don't know where this will end...For now...I just want you to be my brother. That's all. Just be my big brother. Okay?"

Damn-freakin'-Sam. I heard my own self sniffling now and wiped quickly at my nose to stop it and to stop the rest of the sentiment that threatened to surface. I desperately grabbed some deep breaths. Settling myself. Eyes on the road. Hands on the wheel. I gave my little brother his answer.

"Yeah. Sure, Sammy. I can do that...I can do that."

"Thanks." His final, soft-spoken word on the subject, though I saw him clenching his eyes tight and wiping his sleeve past them.

"We get home, I want you to sleep. As long as you need to. Then food. You can get that lobster-with-weeds salad thing you like so much from that hippie organic joint in town. And I won't even harass you about it. And from there, we'll figure out the next step in blasting that damn angel out of my head. You. Me. Cas. Jack. Mom. Rowena. Whoever the hell else needs to be pulled in. We will figure it out. We will."

Sam's fleeting but tenacious hope of an hour ago...I felt a bit of renewed energy from it. The impending doom of the moment contained. If I could get that hope to carry past the next twenty-four hours, maybe we'd find a way to do the impossible. Again.

Reaching over with a hand, I patted Sam's arm; finding a brief perch there. Reassurance? Comfort? Or maybe just me needing my brother like he needed me. He set his own hand on top of mine and closed his eyes.

My mutant over-sized puppy-dog little brother. The baddest hunter. The smartest hunter. Defeated Lucifer and everything else that ever came his way. And yet he was the one person who cared about anything and everyone. The one who gave a crap when no one else did. He deserved so much better than me. Not that he'd ever think that. But he did. Deserve better.

So, I'd give him better. The best effort I could to fight this and find a way beyond Michael.

"Maybe we can do this thing, Sammy. Just maybe we can. I promise I'll try. For you, little brother." I patted his hand before losing the touch to refocus on the road.

Sam's tired, glassy eyes caught mine for a split second and he cleared his raspy throat.

"For _us_, Dean."

Of course. "For us, Sammy." I nodded. "For us."

My hope restored, however short-lived it might be...if Sam could carry me long enough to find a way through this latest battle for the fate of the world and his big brother, I sure as hell was gonna fight my ass off for him.

That fight for the world...for us...began tomorrow.

* * *

The End


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